


The Things That Changed

by artistfire13



Series: The Things That Changed [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: And a little bit of angst, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Sorry, M/M, Minho is sassy, Newt has gone through some shit, Teresa is badass, There will be a lot of swearing fyi sorry, There will probably be sex idek anymore, Thomas is a puppy, extreme fluff, it's really gay, like ultra gay, not literally but he's adorable, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:44:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3416309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artistfire13/pseuds/artistfire13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Newt has secrets, plays violin and happens to have a Youtube Channel, Thomas is an author and adorably oblivious until he's not, Minho really cares about all of his friends but sucks at polite human interaction, and Teresa is completely done with everyone's bullshit. [hiatus sorry]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry I don't even know what this is anymore. A million hugs and kisses to my friend Esha who put up with me and this fluffy bullshit for like three months. She read it like a hundred times, beta-ing. I really don't know please send help. This ship is going to kill me.  
> FYI: The first few chapters are super bad, I'm going to go back and change things and hopefully the rest of it will be better ;-; (Probably not)

It wasn’t like Thomas was completely socially incompetent. He was capable of presenting to a group of colleagues or peers, had plenty of friends, was diplomatic, and was capable of showing leadership qualities when he needed to.

But the everyday use of the New York tube was still one of the most nerve-wracking things he’s ever had to do up to date.

Patting his messenger bag in a sign of anxiety, he entered the train as the doors slid open and finding all of the seats but one filled. He sat down on it, on edge, just as the last trickle of passengers were filling in. The doors had just dinged a familiar chime warning they were closing when a tall, skinny, young man with messy blonde hair squeezed in, panting hard as he fought to catch his breath. Thomas couldn’t keep his eyes away.

The man was gorgeous. He looked young, younger than he probably was, with chocolate brown eyes and a ridiculously innocent looking face. He was gangly, but fit, muscles showing from under the tight skinny jeans, who the hell wore jeans that tight in fucking public-

He grabbed the pole next to Thomas’s seat, his hand just above Thomas’s, as the train jolted, starting it’s journey.

“Bloody cat,” he murmured to himself, still wheezing.

“You want to take a seat, mister?” Thomas found himself spitting out before his mouth went through his brain’s filter.

The man started, confused and wary as he squinted at Thomas who was praying he couldn’t notice the pink at this ears.

“Why?” he asked, distrustfully, “do I look like a bloody cripple to you or-”

“What?” Thomas interrupted, bewildered, “no, no! You just look like you ran a fucking marathon. Need to catch your breathe. I don’t mind standing anyway.”

The man blinked as the extent of Thomas’s words hit him, realizing he wasn’t trying to insult him but was trying to be nice, and a hot blush that should not be so attractive to Thomas, no, stop, bad Thomas, spread across his cheeks.

“Oh,” the man stuttered, “I-I’m sorry, I hadn’t-”

The man cleared his throat, trying to calm down.

“It’s fine,” he finally was able to say coherently, smiling winningly, “thank you.”

Thomas’s heart stuttered and he smiled back weakly, and had to look away for a moment before he was able to look at him again.

“I’m Newton, but everyone calls me Newt, and please, hold the jokes, I guarantee I’ve heard them all,” the man told him holding out his hand, his other arm tightening as he stilled himself from falling as the train switched points.

“Thomas Green,” he replied, taking it, ecstatic he was able to have a decent conversation with an attractive stranger. This called for an excited ten minute texting session with Teresa and maybe ice cream. Yeah, definitely ice cream.

“Why did you think I thought you were a cripple?” Thomas asked, and fuck, where was his nonexistent filter, you don’t just ask random strangers that, Thomas. No ice cream for you.

Thankfully, the really attractive man – Newt – just gave a sardonic half smile.

“The limp usually gives it away,” he replied ruefully, the sad little smirk still on his face.

Thomas shook his head.

“Hadn’t even noticed it,” he replied in turn, not noticing the flash of surprise and pleasure on Newt’s face, “Besides, trying to catch your breathe like that in those skin tight jeans, a limp is the last thing I would notice.”

The two of them blinked at each other as Thomas’s idiotic liquid courage settled in between them. Thomas dropped his jaw, red flooding his face as he comprehended what he said, while Newt smirked, looking awfully amused.

“Oh my god,” Thomas choked, “oh my god, I swear, I don’t know where that came from, I don’t usually go around telling random strangers they have a nice ass-”

Thomas slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide, while Newt started _cackling,_ clutching at the pole for support.

“Good lord, mate,” Newt drawled, a proper British accent accentuating his speech, “good thing I’m as gay as a unicorn with rainbows shooting out of it’s arse and you’re a delicious piece eye candy yourself, or this would have gotten very uncomfortable, very quickly.”

Thomas was very aware he looked like the red fish from a Dr. Seuss book.

“Uhm,” Thomas started, trying desperately to find a little bit more liquid courage because where the fuck did it go, “I-”

He was interrupted by the overhead solemn and tired female voice telling them they were stopping somewhere in the middle of Manhattan.

“Shit,” Newt swore, alarming Thomas, “this is my stop, sorry Tommy, fuck I would give you my number but I’m going to be late-”

The chimes of the door closing sounded and Newt gave Thomas a desperately regretful look.

“Damn, cockblocked by a bloody train, this is a first,” Newt muttered to himself but loud enough for Thomas to hear, “maybe I’ll see you around yeah?”

And Newt was out of the door, giving him a quick wave good bye before Thomas could say a word and leaving him to sulk for the rest of the train ride.

He didn’t even get a last name.

+++

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Newt and Thomas go to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry what is this; this is mostly just a filler and little bit of plot. Sigh boring and short.

"Dude you’re late,” Alby said crossly as Newt entered the threshold of the studio. Chuck, who gave him a small smile, was already double-checking different switches and buttons.

"I’ve gone through some movie-worthy shit this morning, you’ve got no idea,” Newt muttered, slipping off his scarf, Thomas on his mind, “let’s just get started.”

He entered the recording room with soundproof walls and the lone microphone. His violin case was already waiting for him, making him feel a little better. He opened the case and picked up the violin by it’s neck and the end of his bow delicately.

“Do your thing pretty boy, the tuner is to the left,” Alby said through the speakers. Newt stuck out his tongue immaturely but started tuning anyway, beginning with the E string.

“So you wanna talk about what happened this ungodly morning?” Alby kept the door open so he wouldn’t need to use the speaker.

“Hell no. I’m going to end up talking about it anyway for the vlog though, I suppose,” Newt shrugged.

“Wow, it’s worthy enough for a vlog?” Alby asked impressed, “now I kinda do need to know.

“Shut up Alby, if you really want to know, just watch the video I’ll make when I get home.”

“Sour sport. Technology is tearing apart friendships, I’m telling you,” he laughed.

“Yeah, skyping Sonya every night is truly trying on your relationship together.,” Newt replied sarcastically, mentioning Alby’s six month long girlfriend who was at Dublin because of the sudden crash at it’s office. She was a telephone operator manager and it was usual for her to go off to countries to fix problems.

“Shut up,” Alby said with no heat, “we were planning on finish up the third song, starting measure 29, yeah?”

Newt nodded, bringing the shoulder rest up with his bow ready. Alby nodded at Chuck, who set the settings, and Newt closed his eyes, pressed the strings, and started to play.

+++

Meanwhile, Thomas was ready to throw a few punches.

“What do you mean you want to terminate our contract,” Thomas asked, trying to stay as collected as possible. His mind was still churning with his meeting with Newt. He fruitlessly tried to pushing out the plans that were formulating in his head on how to meet him again and focused on the meeting at hand.

“The thing is, Mr. Green,” Janson’s oily voice did not help with his rising frustration, “we have many clients. And though your ongoing transcript is definitely the most promising, it is inconvenient to the whole of the company WICKED Publishing to burn money and time on a half-finished transcript where there are four other completed, moderately decent stories just waiting for approval.”

Thomas sighed. “So you’re letting me go?”

“Not quite,” Janson replied. He pulled out a file he had kept hidden out of sight under the table. “We weren’t lying when we said your novel is the most promising. We are willing to compromise.”

The file was slid in front of Thomas with a date circled in red.

"You’re giving me a deadline?” he was more surprised than angry.

“Six weeks,” Janson told him “you’re far along in your book. We have faith you’ll be able to complete it by then.”

Thomas blinked, then nodded. He could see how it was reasonable, even if he disliked it.

He was willing to cooperate with the deadline. He signed his name for the contract, shook Janson’s sickly, pale hand and left the conference room.

The first thing he did was call Teresa, telling her he needed to come over, now, and no, he would explain he would got there.

The second thing was lean against the wall next to the elevator.

The third thing was to let the stress settle in

+++


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's some Youtube and best friends. Also a little plot and beginnings of drama?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehe I really love Teresa....  
> The drama kinda begins this chapter I'm not sure.

“You should model for me,” Teresa sighed regretfully, painfully aware her best friend, who was sprawled over her couch without a shirt, was gorgeous but sadly gay.

Thomas hummed, remorsefully licking off another spoonful of ice cream.

“I’ll model for you if you can find this cute guy and somehow cure my writer’s block in three days,” he mumbled around the spoon glumly.

He had explained his day to Teresa who in turn wrapped him in the blanket he had told her a million times he didn’t need because “I’m not five years old anymore Teresa” and a carton of ice cream.

Teresa sighed again.

“ _Hello everyone!”_ Teresa's laptop chirped behind her. Thomas didn’t mind it as he sulked behind the carton of ice cream.

“Sorry, love,” Teresa said for it, “was watching my favorite youtube channel before you called. Love the guy.”

“Hmm,” Thomas hummed remorsefully, and peeked at her laptop anyway. Then choked consequently, getting ice cream up his nose.

“Christ Tom, are you alright?” Teresa asked alarmed.

“That’s him!” Thomas gasped, pointing at the screen, “that’s the guy I was telling you about.”

Teresa look at him, and then to the screen, a look of disbelief overcoming her face. Then she started laughing.

“Oh my god, no way, there is no way you met Newt Isaacson, Thomas, don’t even kid like that because if you did-holy motherfucking shit you did,” Teresa stopped laughing as Thomas’s face continued to have the shocked expression as he stared at the screen.

Teresa flew into action, grabbing her laptop, unplugging it from her charger then settled next to Thomas, forcing him to sit up straight or she would be sitting on his arm. She then reloaded the entire video and pressed play. Thomas saw the title of the video as “Cockblocked by a Train,” and a sense of surrealism settled over him.

“Hello everyone!” Newt’s cheerful expression waved at the audience, “Newt here! Minho’s here too but we don’t talk about him.”

A faint “hey!” was heard and Newt stuck out his tongue.

“So story time Tuesday yeah?” he started, launching into his day.

Crazy thing happened today,” Newt grinned through the laptop screen, “kinda acted like an idiot but hey, what’s new?”

“Holy shit,” Thomas whispered. Teresa giggled watching him watch Newt.

“So I was super late to the recording studio this morning because this bloody thing,” he held up a bright orange cat so it would be seen on the camera, “decided she needed extra attention, as if she doesn’t get enough of that already. I had just barely gotten into the train when this attractive person went up and offered their seat for me. And so being stupid and hotheaded like I am, I immediately thought they was trying to do it because they thought I was a cripple and shot them down quicker than I could think. And wow, I’m tell you guys, and you, if you’re watching,” Teresa squealed as Thomas turned a bright red, “I’ve never seen anything cuter than the confused look on their face.”

Teresa was laughing now as Thomas desperately fought with multiple emotions.

“So about modeling,” she started, making Thomas cover his face and groan. Their arguing covered up Newt’s tinny voice through the speakers.

“I would actually like to meet this person again,” he heard Newt saying making Teresa shush and cast him an excited look, “though I don’t think they watched my videos. They didn’t recognize me so probably not. Hopefully though, I might see them on the tube tomorrow morning, and I’ll keep you all updated! Unless, you know, they doesn’t want me to, which I’m cool with. Privacy and all that, you feel? My album is coming along, be sure to pre-order it and subscribe. Anyways, I’ll see you all on Thursday! Love you, bye, and don’t die!” he smirked and blew a kiss to the screen. The subscribe slide with previous videos and social media site usernames came up to mark the end of the seven minute video and they stared at the blank box after it finished.

“You are taking me with you to the tube with you tomorrow, no exceptions.”

“No, Teresa please.”

“ _No exceptions!”_

+++

Newt rubbed his eyes after he posted his latest vlog, spinning in his desk chair.

“You really have it bad for this Thomas guy don’t you,” Minho stated from the bed. Why he was in Newt’s room when he had his own only two yards away from the front door, Newt did not know.

“How could I have it bad for a guy I’ve known for five minutes,” he replied tiredly. It was nearing 7 pm and it had been a long day, “what takeout do you want?”

“Aw, man, it’s your turn to cook,” he complained.

“Yeah. What takeout do you want?”

Minho sighed.

“Just be careful alright?” Minho finally said, with the concerned you’re-unstable-and-dangerous look Newt hated. “I don’t want another 2010.”

“And you think I do?” Newt snapped. His temple hurt. His leg hurt. As cheesy as it sounded, his heart hurt too. He didn’t want this conversation. Not now. Probably not ever.

“Just,” Minho tried placating, “don’t do something stupid. Don’t do something I wouldn’t. Please.”

“I don’t think yourself is the best example for the situation at hand,” Newt sassed back wryly.

“Oi,” Minho exclaimed half-heartedly.

“I really want food Minho, and if you won’t tell me what you want, I’ll just order from that really crappy Mexican place down the street,” Newt threatened, making it clear the conversation was over.

Minho grimaced. “I think that place gave me diarrhea for like three days straight.”

“I know, Minho. We share a bathroom.”

“Order Indian.

“Indian it is.”

Newt got out of the chair, and stretched. Minho threw a pillow at him as his spine cracked, saying “it’s unnatural and I don’t need to hear your bones slowly eroding away so I’ll have to carry your skinny ass around when we’re 90.”

Newt purposely bent his back so the last vertebrae would snap. Minho made a face.

Friendship at it’s finest.

+++


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Newt meets Thomas again. Oh and also Teresa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REALLY LOVE TERESA..........

Thomas thought for sure he was in the clear that morning. If he woke up fifteen minutes earlier than usual, took a five minute shower instead of ten, and grabbed an apple and ate on the way to the tube, Teresa would find his flat empty. But when he opened the door she was already there waiting for him.

“Thought you could leave without me didn’t you Tom?” Teresa grinned and Thomas sighed in defeat.

“Let’s go then,” he muttered, dreading for what would come.

They had arrived to the tube station about five minutes early. Teresa had bought Thomas a muffin on the way there to make up for his rudimentary breakfast and he was chewing remorsefully, praying to whatever god Teresa wouldn’t fuck everything up.

“Oh my god, I’m so excited!” Teresa grabbed his arm, grinning hard. Thomas sighed and smiled a little.

“Really I hadn’t noticed,” he replied, rolling his eyes fondly.

“Oh god, what should I say when we meet him, well obviously you say something first and then I can introduce myself and wow, okay, I’m cool, I’m good, I swear I can be normal, I swear, oh my god Thomas don’t freak out, I’m here to help, okay breathe Teresa you’re okay.” Teresa was breathing deeply, inhaling and exhaling carefully.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” a familiar voice said behind them, extremely amused.

Teresa literally jumped and turned around enough for whiplash, dragging Thomas with her.

“Dammit Teresa I-” Thomas started saying as he tripped over his own feet, “you’re going to _kill_ me.”

“Oh, but then where would the fun be after _that_ ,” Newt raised an eyebrow. He looked about the same he did the other day, just this time with a scarf.

“Well,” Thomas was saying before he was interrupted by Teresa.

“Okay, oh my god, I’m sorry, but I’m a huge fan, I’m Teresa Agnes, and I’ve-” Teresa started rambling before Thomas kicked her foot.

“Wow rude,” she frowned. She kicked him back, then blushed as she realized Newt was still watching them very amused.

“Well, nice to meet you Teresa Agnes,” he smiled, eyes twinkling like he was a few seconds away from collapsing from laughter, “I-”

He stopped, his eyes going wide.

“Oh my god, you’re not the Teresa Agnes are you?” he gasped, “Teresa Agnes, as in artist-in-chief of The Maze Runner?”

Teresa blinked in surprise.

“Uh well, I supposed to meet with Mr. Ling in a few days, I wouldn’t say I was artist-in-chief or anything, I’ve only sent in a few,” she drifted off flustered. She looked up to Thomas for help and found none as he shrugged, as confused as her.

“Oh bloody hell, okay, Minho is driving me _crazy_ about you, all he talks about is Teresa Agnes’s this and Teresa Agnes’s that and ‘wow holy shit Newt, have you seen her character sketches-’” Newt stopped as the train approached the station and he gestured they walk to it. When the doors closed behind them, he cocked his head.

“What are the odds” he grinned, “was hoping for a date with Tommy, met my best friend’s starstruck instead.”

“Okay, okay so, slow down a little?” Thomas motioned with his hands, and Newt raised an eyebrow, “so, your flatmate I’m guessing, Minho, is making a video game and Teresa is working for him but had never met him because he only went by Mr. Ling or something Teresa told me, you’re both internet famous and I didn’t know that yeah this is pretty wild and what exactly did you mean you _were_ expecting a date with me?

Teresa giggled as Newt blinked, it taking him a little longer to process.

“Pretty much, he’s saying it’s insane how we’ve never met before and if you’re still willing to go out for dinner and maybe get in his pants,” she translated, smirking as Thomas turned red.

“Um, well,” Thomas stuttered, his brain shutting down, “when you put it like that-”

Newt started laughing. A full-body laughing that made him clutch at his sides.

“Damn, Thomas,” he grinned, “that’s the second time you’ve made me laugh like how I haven’t for _years._ Don’t know what is, but there’s something about you that’s good for me. How’s Friday at 7 pm? I can text you the details.”

Thomas opened then closed his mouth, still incapable of words. Teresa filled in for him quickly.

“He would love to,” she piped up. She fished out a pen from the neat canvas handbag she carried and scrawled Thomas’s number on a scrap piece of paper.

“He’ll be coherent eventually, his dates aren’t usually as sexy as you, it’s coming off as bit of a shock, oh look this is our stop, it was lovely meeting you Newt, say hi to Minho for me and I’ll see him Friday, we’ll catch up later yeah?”

Teresa pushed Thomas out of the train before any of them could get a word in.

After the train pulled away from the station, Thomas blinked and just looked at Teresa.

“You’re welcome, I just scored you a hot date,” she clarified.

They both just stared at each other for another moment as the situation settled in a little better.

“Holy shit, we met a Youtube sensation. We’re going to meet up with another Youtube sensation. I just scored you a date with Newt fucking Isaacson, holy shit, I’m _working for_ Minho Ling,” Teresa whispered feverishly.

“Holy shit,” Thomas agreed in a low voice, anxiety already finding it’s way in and taking a sledgehammer on his already frayed nerves. He needed to go home oh hell, he needed to cool down-

“I should work as wing-woman!”

The terrifying image of Teresa as a wing-woman intimidating other men to back off in the middle of a bar was enough to shock Thomas back for another few seconds.

“What, oh my god, are you fucking crazy, _no.”_

+++


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we have some texting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knows what this is. It might be a while for me to post the next chapter sorry, I'm having some writer's block. I feel like this is going way too fast :(

Newt was grinning recklessly as he entered the recording studio and Alby had to double back in shock. Minho, who was apparently visiting, raised both his eyebrows.

"Oh my god Newt, are you smiling?” Alby's jaw dropped.

“Fuck off, I've had a great morning.”

“I'm not saying it's bad, it suits you, it makes you look less like a grumpy nine-year old but more like a happy one. What happened?”

Newt felt the blush rising in his cheeks. Minho crowed.

“Holy shit, Newt did you score yourself a hot date?” he leered, “oh my god, you did! Do the Gladers know? I must tell everyone. The world must know that Newt is getting some. I'll probably need to invest in some earbuds. You are so totally a twink and I know from living with you that you're a screamer.”  
Chuck snorted at his place at the switches as Newt gave Minho the death glare but then let it crumble as he thought about Thomas. And maybe even the prospect of getting that far with him...

Newt felt heat behind his neck and around his ears and cheeks as the other started laughing.

“Yeah, I guess, maybe,” Newt finally sighed in defeat. Alby whooped.

"Alright, let's go, all of the details, Sonya and I are talking about this tonight.”

“Is it about that guy you met yesterday at the tube?” Minho asked, a flutter of concern flashing on his face for a sec. It was gone before Newt could comprehend it.

Newt rubbed the back of his head, slipping off his layers.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “Thomas. I met him and his friend earlier at the tube. Guess who his friend was?”

“Ooo, Angelina Jolie!”  
“No you little shit. It was Teresa Agnes.”

Minho blinked as he slowly realized what his friend said.

“Oh my god no, you mean the chick whose making the designs for my video game?”

“The very one.”

“OH MY GOD,” Minho shouted. Alby and Chuck both winced but Newt was used to it by now. “Was she hot?”

All three of them groaned in exasperation.

“How should I know, I'm gay. Besides you're meeting her this weekend. You'll know then.”

“And about meetings, what about this Thomas guy.”

Newt smiled in spite of himself nearly immediately.

“I asked him out and got his number,” he started.

“And?” Alby prompted.

“And, well,” Newt shrugged helplessly, “I said I would text him the details.”

“What was he like?” Chuck asked, he had stopped paying attention the switches.

Newt heard a sigh and then blushed when he realized the love-sick sound had come from himself. Alby and Minho laughed at him.

“Wow, that good?” Alby teased.

“Shut up,” Newt retorted, “he's... sweet. And cute. And probably too sexy for his own good. I asked him out today.”

“Anddddd?” Minho prompted.

Newt reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper Teresa had given him with Thomas's number.

“Uh, I'm supposed to text him details about Friday.”

“Well?”

“I really don't know.”  
Alby, Minho, and Chuck collectively sighed.

“Young-looking grasshopper, we have much to discuss,” Minho said gravely.

+++

“Teresa he texted me.”

Teresa sighed and looked up like she was personally asking God why He left her with such an idiot.

“That's what happens when someone has your number Thomas.”

“Well, yeah, I know, but what do I do?”

Teresa groaned like he was causing her actual physical pain and looked over his shoulder to read the text.

“Hello, this Newt. Hope this was the right number you friend gave me. Think you're coherent enough to talk to your hot date?”

Teresa laughed, delighted. “I like him more personally than professionally.”

“What do I reply,” Thomas whined, insistent.

Teresa sighed again and plucked Thomas’s phone out of his hand.

“Hi, Newt. Yeah, this is Thomas. Sorry about earlier. So Friday?” she read out loud as she typed in the text. She looked up at Thomas and raised an eyebrow. Thomas nodded and Teresa pressed send.

“It’s not that hard Thomas,” Teresa sighed, “you need to get over this weirdness with him. I know you’re great with individual people Thomas. Why is Newt so different?”

Thomas flopped down on the beanbag chair Teresa had in her room.

“I don’t know,” Thomas finally replied, “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like him. Maybe when I get to know him better it’ll be more comfortable.”

Teresa sat down next to him, practically on his lap. “Let’s hope so, for your benefit.”

The chirp of Thomas’s phone alerted them of an incoming text.

“You're replying to this one Thomas.”

“I know.”

“Right, Friday,” Thomas read out loud for her benefit, “I was thinking we could go for a movie. Tell Teresa I said hello.”

“He did not say that,” Teresa grinned, grabbing Thomas's phone out of his hand. When she read the text herself she squealed out loud and quickly typed in another “hi!” and then “I'll give the phone back to Thomas now.”

“A movie seems fine. The one near Broadway?” Thomas replied, his heart pounding. Yeah, alright so maybe Thomas had never been asked out. He's not freaking out, he's not. Honest.

“Yeah,” was his quick reply, “There's a nice Italian restaurant a little off of it. Is seven alright for you?”

Thomas typed in his answer, becoming more and more excited. Teresa watched him with near equal excitement.

“Great, I'll see you then.”

The phone beeped nearly immediately.

See you and your ridiculously beautiful eyes Friday, gorgeous.”

The last comment made blood rush up to Thomas's face along with a stupid shit-eating grin. He heard a small giggle. He realized a few seconds the sound came from himself. He was turning into a teenage girl.

“Oh my god, what did he say, what did he say,” Teresa bounced, making grabby hands at the phone, “Thomas you look like you're on cloud nine, give me the damn phone.”

When Teresa finally grabbed the phone from his hands and read the text, her hand flew up to her mouth and she squeaked with a grin matching Thomas's.

"OH MY GOD THAT IS SO ADORABLE I'M GOING TO DIE, THE RATE THIS RELATIONSHIP IS GOING THOMAS AFTER YOUR DATE YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO PLAN MY FUNERAL I'M _CRYING HOW IS THIS REAL LIFE.”_

Thomas laughed, trying really hard to stop looking so dreamy. By the expression on Teresa's gleeful face, he was failing.

“Should I reply?” he asked, and received a slap to the head.

“Oh my god no, you keep it like this holy shit never ruin this I'm taking a screenshot, Thomas it's like you've never written romance before.”

Teresa was talking a million words per minute now and Thomas was having trouble keeping up with her.

"Uh, okay,” he stuttered, “Friday.”  
Teresa dramatically sighed for Thomas.

“It's sooooo far.” she flopped on top of Thomas, making him grunt in the sudden weight. “Be ready for two days worth of torture.”

Thomas sighed as well. Didn't he know it.

+++


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Newt and Thomas are nervous.

“Shit.”   
Minho popped his head into Newt's room.

“What's up?” he asked, popping a large bubble of gum.

“I have no idea what to wear.”

Minho paused, stared at the disaster that was now Newt's usually pristine room and moaned softly.

“I knew this day would come,” he whispered to himself, “the day I would have to give my gay best friend fashion advice. Before you know it Minho, you're going to be watching Titanic for the fifth time in a row with a bucket of ice cream crying about Jack.”

“Okay, you need to stop. Minho, I swear to god, the next time I hear another gay stereotype coming out of your mouth, I'm going to go out and buy spring rolls from the nearest Asian grocery store-”

“Well, that's not the only thing coming near your mouth.”  
Newt stared at him with a blank expression.

“Okay, that's it, I'm walking out of that door and getting the car keys, Minho, I-” he said very loudly.

Minho leaned against the doorway, nonplussed.

“Kinda hard to do that without a shirt on,” he said nonchalantly. Newt's shoulders slumped and he sighed.

“Why the fuck did I say dinner and a movie _.  _ Why the fuck did you  _ let _ me.”

“There weren't a whole lot options bro, don't kick yourself already.”  
“We could have gone bowling.”  
A look of disbelief was on Minho's face.

“No one goes  _ bowling  _ on the first date.”

Newt made a sound of distress.

“Oh god, I'm going to fuck up the first date, and he'll never want to go out with me ever again, and I'll be alone with a million cats, or worse, alone with you,” Newt groaned, falling back on his bed.

“Oh my god Newt, calm the fuck down, it's not the end of the world. You'll be fine. Here,” Minho went over to the mess of Newt's closet. He pulled out a pair of skinny jeans and a black fleece sweatshirt with a wider neckline.

“For all you twink needs,” he commented as he threw them at Newt. He scowled but caught the apparel anyway.

“Make your hair messy, use some product, then walk out that door Newt or I swear I'm going to kick you out.”

To Minho's surprise, Newt did as he was told numbly and closed the door behind him, leaving Minho standing in their flat slightly worried now.

+++

Teresa thought she was ready for Thomas's panic attack. She had known Thomas since they were five years old. She knew what made him nervous, what made him happy, and what made him excited. So when she entered his flat, using the key he had given to her years ago, she was wary and had her guard up. And was completely surprised to see Thomas sitting on the couch reading, fully prepared for his date.

“Uhm, Thomas?” she asked, slightly terrified with what happened to her best friend. Thomas shouldn’t be calmly reading _War and Peace_ twenty minutes before his date with the guy of his dreams. He should be bouncing of the walls and maybe killing a couple men.

Thomas made a sound of acknowledgement.

“Are you... alright?”

“Course I am.”

“You sure?”

“I'm silently screaming and I'm about to overturn this couch in pure fit of anxiety.”

“Ah, yes, okay, you're fine, that's good to know.”

Thomas sighed, put away his book, and took of his glasses. Then he looked over to Teresa and she saw complete panic in his eyes.

“Help.”

Teresa hummed, relieved.

“I'm here for you Tom.”

Thomas looked less panicky and relaxing from his uptight position.

“You're leaving. Right now.”

Thomas frowned. “You're not helping.”

\+ + +

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This is all so bad, I'm crying in the inside. It feels so rushed and amateur I'm s c r e a m i n g)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Newt and Thomas go out on their date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait! Here's a really long chapter in apology.  
> I REALLY LOVE THIS CHAPTER, IT'S PROBABLY TOO CHEESY BUT WHO CARES IT'S CUTE.  
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy :)  
> -Sami

Thomas was in front of the restaurant about ten minutes early, looking around for Newt nervously. It was a nice place, and smelled nice and was warm. He bunched up his shoulders and put his hands in his pockets.

“You're early,” a british accent commented behind him.

Thomas laughed before turning around, instantly relaxing.

“Honestly, you need to stop greeting me like this-” he grinned, then his voice faltered, his eyes widening.

Newt looked amazing, and from the slight smirk he wore along with his apparel, he was perfectly aware of it. Thomas couldn't help but raking his eyes up and down his profile.

“Like what you see Tommy?” he asked coyly.

Thomas blushed dark red and cleared his throat, avoiding Newt's eyes because wow, he really did look lovely and what the fuck, did he just call a grown ass man lovely.

“So what movie are we going to watch?” he tried, walking towards the movie theater. Newt fell in step beside him. Thomas really tried not to think about how natural it seemed to walk side by side because, that wasn't normal for a first date, right? Though Thomas fully intended this to be the first date, not the only date.

“I don't even know what's showing right now,” Newt laughed and Thomas blushed again. He could definitely get use to hearing Newt laugh, “thought maybe we could just watch the next showing of whatever and hold hands in the dark. Call me romantic.”  
Newt turned his head to look at him, grinning with an eyebrow raised. Thomas blinked and then laughed, nodding. Newt honest to god was too adorable for his own good.

“Sounds great, romantic,” he teased, “sounds perfect.”

“I'm paying.”

“ _No.”_

Thomas was sure he was going to fall in love by the end of the night.

+++

After a lengthy argument on who would pay, Newt finally pulling the, “I asked you out, so I pay,” card. The only reason why Thomas agreed was because after, Newt said, “You can pay for the next date,” and it was enough to make him shut up pretty quick, blushing brilliantly. Instead, Thomas insisted buying popcorn so they were finishing the giant tub of popped buttery kernels between them in the back row during the trailers.

“How are you eating so much?” Newt asked in amazement, gaping, “where does it all even go?”

Thomas shrugged, grinning which made Newt laugh.

“Remind me to restock my fridge before I invite you over to my place,” Newt said, somewhat fondly.

“Is that implying that you would be willing to invite me over to your place?” Thomas immediately took the chance. Newt sputtered, his ears turning red.

“What?”  
“And what would we be doing there, at your place? All alone?” Thomas asked, a little softer and much, much closer. If it weren't so dark, Newt was sure he would have been able to count every single one of Thomas's freakishly long eyelashes.

Someone in front of them coughed loudly and their moment was broken, Thomas pulling away before Newt could do something he really wanted to do at the moment though would probably regret later. Thomas had the nerve to wink at him before turning to the movie that was starting. Newt stared at Thomas for a few more moments, blinking hard and trying to figure him out as the light's started to dim.

He was someone that Newt was more than willing to get to know more.

+++

During the movie, Newt was a note-worthy distraction. Thomas tried really hard not to stare or at least not stare noticeably but that small smirk Newt wore for the duration of the movie told him he hadn't done well. Thomas wasn't even sure what the movie was about to be honest, because his brain had short-circuited when Newt reached over and threaded their fingers together about fifteen minutes into the film.

Jesus fucking Christ, Thomas could write an opera for Newt's hand-holding.

Thomas was really glad the movie theater was dark because Thomas was sure his face was redder than Mars. Newt seemed to enjoy teasing him, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles softly and giving his hand a squeeze every once and a while. When Newt leaned into him a little, Thomas swallowed, his heart beating faster and he could practically _feel_ Newt's self-pleased grin.

The movie was over way too quickly and Thomas was both disappointed and relieved because he was sure he would stroke the way his heart was going.

“The night was lovely Thomas, thank you. I should walk you to your flat,” Newt said as they left the theater. It was cold outside and Thomas adored the way Newt's nose and cheeks were flushed adorably in a matter of minutes.

Oh god, he was so completely utterly fucked.

“Uh,” Thomas tried, slowly down so he wouldn't stumble over his words, “no, sorry, my flat's pretty far from here. I need to take a cab.”  
“Oh,” Newt looked disappointed. Thomas wished to himself that it was because it meant their night would be cut short.

“I could walk you to yours?” Thomas offered.

Newt grinned, raising an eyebrow.

“That would be great! No sex though sorry. I don't put out on the first date.”

“I didn't come for the sex Newt.”

That surprised Newt, and he stayed speechless for a little while. Thomas offered his hand, blushing madly, and Newt took it shyly before they walked companionably to Newt's flat, which was only five minutes away.

“You live with a roommate right?” Thomas asked. The fact Newt was taller than him frustrated him a little.

“Yeah, Minho. He's a tool but he's cares so it works alright. What about you? You sharing with someone?”

Thomas shook his head, laughing.

“I don't think anyone could deal with me 24/7. Thought I do stay at Teresa's more than I probably stay at my own apartment.”

They stopped in front of a neat seven story building, the top two floors with balconies.

“Well this is my stop,” Newt said he said, his arms weakly moving as he was unsure on what to do. Thomas seemed just as awkward and uncomfortable.

“I suppose I'll see you-” Newt had started at the same time Thomas blurted out, “May I kiss you?” surprised with his own boldness. Newt seemed to be as well and raised his eyebrows. Then he smiled, a sweet smile, different from the smirk he gave him when he was flirting and grin he gave Teresa when she recognized him. It made him softer, younger, and touchable. It made him look beautiful. Thomas’s head spun and he felt as if his blood was going to make his head explode.

Oh my god, please calm the fuck down hormones.

“Well since you asked so politely,” he laughed, leaning forward and bumping their foreheads together. Thomas grinned, closing his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Newt's proximity.

“I really like you Thomas,” Newt breathed. Thomas felt the warm air on his face, “I really do.”

“Yeah?” he replied, brushing their noses together, “well I sure would hope so. Or tonight's date would be very awkward.”

Newt laughed, tilting his head slightly. Thomas was probably going to die from the closeness of his lips.

“I really hope you stay around Tommy,” Newt continued softly, almost wistfully, “because I like you so much it scares me.”

“I hope that's a good thing because I fully intend to keep you for as long as you let me,” Thomas answered, unsure how to correctly reply. It seemed to be the right thing to say because the next moment, Newt had flashed a pleased grin and closed the miniscule gap in between them. Newt's lips were soft against his, gentle and soft and just a little uncertain. Thomas brought his hand up to run his fingers through Newt’s hair, sucking a little on his bottom lip before biting it lightly. He moved a little up and kissed more of the corner Newt's mouth before he moved on to his jawline, mouthing wetly, nipping at some places, softly kissing others.

“I think you're getting a little further than PG-13 PDA right now Thomas,” Newt gasped, groaning as he found a sensitive part underneath his ear and causing his hips to buck and elicit a soft strangled moan from his throat. Thomas's mouth curved into a pleased smirk.

“Maybe you're right,” he sighed regretfully with exaggeration. Newt made a short and soft type of keening sound as Thomas moved away from him abruptly,

“Wait no,” he choked, “I didn't mean stop completely! I thought maybe you would like to come up to my flat and-”

Newt's voice drifted off as he blushed. Thomas found it endearing that the flirty, sexy Newt he had met at the train whose main intention had been trying to get into Thomas's pants was now trying very hard to take it slow.

“Maybe next time,” Thomas suggested grinning as he took a step back to the sidewalk. "After all you did say you didn't put out on the first date." Newt frowned.

“Yeah well, that was before I found the guy of my dreams,” he muttered to himself but still loud enough to Thomas. To be honest, I think I will die from sexual tension by the time next time comes around."

Thomas laughed out loud then pressed him lips quickly against Newt's again before walking down the stairs, pleased and positively glowing.

“Text me,” Thomas called back, giving him a small half-smile and wave.

When he hailed a cab and entered it, he saw Newt wave and enter the complex.

Thomas was internally screaming all the way home, his lips buzzing.

+++

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thomas and Newt have post-date anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Again, thank you for all the amazing comments I love you!  
> This story is going really fast :( but at the same time, not fast enough; I haven't even gotten to the main plot (*eyebrows wiggle unsuggestively*) Still, I hope you like this chapter. You learn a little bit more about Newt I guess. I'm not even sure if anything in this story makes sense or not sorry.

When Newt didn't reply to his three texts the next day, Thomas became worried.

And whenever Thomas was worried, he annoyed Teresa.

“What if I said something?” he fretted, tapping his fingers, “what if I rushed him or if-”  
Teresa grabbed his fingers, an ever-persisting headache throbbing above her eyebrow.

“When you two get married,” she finally said, “Newt better get on his fucking knees and thank me for putting up with this shit.”

“Have you assumed that maybe Newt's just really busy and can't reply to your texts? Or that maybe, just maybe, he's head-over-heels just like you are and can't find the reply like, ahem, you couldn't?”  
Thomas sulked.

“Calm down Thomas. It'll work out. Just be patient.”   
Thomas made a sound of contempt. But thankfully, he didn't say anything.

“You haven't written anything,” Teresa commented, “try writing a page. It'll help you get Newt off of your mind.”

Thomas hummed in agreement and made himself comfortable position on Teresa's couch and propped over his laptop.

“So, how do you think you're finish your book up?” Teresa asked, pinning up a few of her sketches next to her easel. Thomas and Teresa had formed a type of routine where they worked better near each other.

Thomas rubbed the back of his head and then cracked his knuckles.

“I'm still not entirely sure,” he finally sighed, “it's dystopian fiction. You can't go all that far in dystopian fiction.”

Teresa hummed in disagreement.

“There's loads of things you can do in dystopian fiction!” Teresa encouraged. She was setting up her paint pallet now and soaking a few brushes. “Have you considered romance? It is an adult fiction book...”

Thomas rubbed his eyes and frowned. “I was really hoping I would stay clear of that in here. But maybe. What, should I introduce another character or-”

Teresa came over behind Thomas, putting up her hair. “Well let's see. Who are your characters?”

Thomas clicked a few buttons and brought up the page with all of his characters. He liked to stay organized with his outline for plot and characters but let there be enough holes to do what ever he wanted.

“Right, I remember James,” Teresa remarked, “kinda looks like you. Or at least in my head. Then Noah. Yeah, and Amy, Chloe.”  
Teresa stopped half-way down the list.

“Oh, man, Thomas, Justin,” Teresa grinned, “you better still be writing Justin.”

Thomas scrolled down a little before he nodded, a little puzzled.

“Justin was my favorite character. Oh my god, that's it. Use him. He always seemed a little gay for James.”

“He seemed a little gay,” Thomas said with a slightly disbelieving tone.

“Just a little.”

“I'm not sure you realize how the whole gay thing works Teresa.”

She rolled her eyes and straightened.

“Use James and Justin, Thomas,” she replied, “Jametin. I like it. James would totally be a top.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows before opening his mouth. Then he closed it.

“Well,” he admitted, “I suppose. I mean, Justin would have a really nice ass – wait, shit, I'm not supposed to be thinking about my characters like that. Stop that Teresa. It's not professional.”

Teresa laughed.

“Then it elicits the question,” she added slyly, “who would top in bed? You or Newt?”

Thomas choked and it took a good few minutes for him to regain his breath.

Teresa waited until he could talk again, sitting patiently near his feet on the couch, grinning madly.

“You two would probably switch to be honest,” she continued loudly, “you've both got that submitting vibe-”

Thomas kicked her off of the couch in her own house.

“Okay wow rude. Write your gay space dystopian sex novel.”

“Fuck off.”

+++

Meanwhile that day, Newt was freaking out. He was anxious, jumpy, nervous, and he couldn't concentrate on anything especially in the recording studio.

“Alright, what gives,” Alby finally asked, taking off his headphones. Newt did the same in the studio, sighing and frustrated. He nodded to Ben who got up and left, realizing the day's work was done.

“'m sorry Alby,” Newt replied, down and frayed. “I just-”

Alby took Newt by the shoulders and looked down into his eyes.

“Newt,” he said softly, “seriously, you've been a mess. What's up? Having you been talking to Minho or-”

Newt frowned, displeased with the turn of events.

“It's not that,” Newt forcefully moved out of Alby's grip, “I haven't thought about- no. I can't believe-”

“It's not that we don't trust you Newt,” Alby cut in, “it's just. 2010 was a scare Newt. For all of us.”

Newt's anger drained out of him. He felt awful for not considering his friend's feelings, not for the first time ever.

“You're right,” he said softly, “I'm sorry. It's just- well.”

“Is it that guy? The one you went out with yesterday?”  
Alby looked as uncomfortable with this conversation was Newt was.

“Listen Alby, it's okay, you don't have to-”

“Shut up Newt, you're one of my best friends. I actually do care. Also if I left you without knowing all the juicy details about last night Sonya will kill me.”

“Right,” Newt smirked, “Sonya.”

“Just shut up and start talking asshole.”

Five minutes later after Newt explained the events of yesterday with wide and flailing hand gestures that accidentally hit Alby more than once, he took a breath to calm down.

“Alright so what now,” Alby finally asked, rubbing his bruised arm, “what's wrong? It seemed like the date went well.”

Newt slumped and sighed.

“That's what's wrong Alby,” he replied, “I haven't been in a long term relationship for nearly a decade and look how well that turned out. I have no idea what I'm doing. And even though you all don't believe me I've never... publicly stated I was gay. Like never on my channel. I've never been in a gay relationship before, I don't know how this works. And I want it to work. But at the same time I'm scared. Still, Thomas is absolutely adorable, look he's sent me like three texts since this morning and I don't know how to reply a single one of them because I'm shit scared Alby. Oh god, okay, what the fuck do I do?”

Alby opened his mouth, closed it then held up a finger. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone and pushed a few buttons. Newt tried to calm down as Alby held it to his ear and waited for the call to go through.

“Yeah, hi Sonya, it's me. Are you busy, we're having a crisis.”

A few moments later, Alby handed Newt the phone. Newt stared at it like it was dead rat on a stick.

“It's for you,” he said, in an obvious voice.

Newt sighed and took the phone.

“Hello Sonya,” he said into it, “it's okay, crisis was a false alarm. How are you?”

“Don't you fucking play dumb with me you little shit,” was the quick response, making Newt cringe, “Alby wouldn't call me unless he was way out of his depth.”

“Remind me why we're friends.”

“I started dating your best friend.”

“Mistake on your behalf.”

“Oi!” Alby punched Newt on the arm. “I can hear you!”

“Tell me all,” Sonya said. Newt could imagine her sitting cross-legged in her makeshift office in Dublin, pencil skirt and all, glasses perched on her nose.

With a sigh of defeat, Newt relayed the events of the week to Sonya, trying to beat down the hysteria as he got closer and closer to the end because why the fuck is he feeling like this he's a goddamn grown ass adult, he pays taxes and mortgage for fuck's sake. He buys vegetables.

“Oh Newt,” Sonya said sadly when he finished, “I wish you could see how obvious it is.”

“What's obvious. Please elaborate because I've been grinding my nose on this for the past twelve hours and I'm about to die.”

“Have you considered talking to Thomas? Maybe answering his texts? I swear, it's like explaining how to peal a banana to a chimp, no offense. He's probably going crazy, wondering what he did wrong. Give the poor guy a break.”

Newt sighed for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Okay, fine, I will, but what about after? Should I go out with him again?” Newt sat down in the chair, prepared for a long chat with Sonya. Alby waved off Newt's mouthed apology and left the recording studio to get coffee.

“Child, you need to work that on your own. I can't make all the decisions for you. Talk. To. Him. Believe me communication is key.”

“He's going to start running if I tell him everything.”

“Honey, he's not worth your time if he starts running.”

Newt smiled a little at the small input. “Thanks Sonya. A lot. For everything.”

“Don't worry about it sweetheart. I'm here whenever you need me because the boys are terrible at this. And don't be a stranger Newt, I'm serious. Don't let the next time we talk be another near meltdown crisis.”

Newt rolled his eyes, already feeling less panicked and more like his usual calm self.

“Yeah, alright. Bye Sonya.”

“Bye, Newt. Tell Alby I love him.”

The ringer signaled the end of the call as Alby came in with two cups of coffee.

“Better?” Alby asked, handing him one.

“Better,” he said accepting it.

“So what now?” he asked, sitting across from Newt.

“I guess,” Newt mumbled, getting out his phone, “communication is the key.”

At the last moment, Newt wrote the text and then chickened out and deleted it. Alby sighed. This was going to be a long afternoon.

+++

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Newt's worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for everything. I just  
> Hump. I really don't like this fanfiction as much as I did. I almost want to delete the whole thing and start from scratch. I'm sorry for such a long wait, but it's just so hard to write this now. I'm writing a different Newtmas fanfiction that's just flowing so much easier. I'm probably not going to update this very often. I'm sorry, it seems to have a better rate of kudos than the other one but still. Sorry. Here's just a chapter, it's not very long at all. Sorry again :(  
> -Sami

By eight, Thomas gave up.

“He doesn't like me. I knew it. I pushed it too far. He's weirded out about me and doesn't know how to tell me thanks, but no thanks,” he mumbled defeated with a crestfallen expression.

Teresa sat down next to him and rubbed his shoulder.

“You want ice cream?” she offered, trying to cheer him up.

He sagged against Teresa.

“Right now I don't want anything,” he frowned, “I really thought that it had gone well. Maybe-”  
His phone buzzed and they both froze.

“I shouldn't get my hopes up,” Thomas finally said, deflating. He didn't look at the phone. Teresa shot him an annoyed look.

“Okay, Mr. My-Life-Is-So-Miserable,” she frowned, “since you're too scared of rejection, Big-Girl Teresa is gonna look at your phone instead.”

Thomas sulked as he handed her the phone. Quickly she tapped in his phone and read quickly. She frowned. Thomas's heart fell.

“I knew it,” he said crestfallen, “either he didn't text or he did and he's doing the whole, 'it's not you, it's me,' and is ice cream still an option right now?”

“He's not doing either Option A or Option B,” she said slowly, “to be honest Thomas, I think you should call him.”  
Thomas hesitated then took the phone from Teresa.

_Sorry about such a late reply. My friend Alby and his girlfriend Sonya think that I have communication problems and I guess they are kinda right. I wouldn't hold it against you if you didn't want to keep going out with him. Last night was lovely Thomas, better than anything I could have expected. But now, I'm not entirely sure where to go from here. I was hoping we could meet up again, maybe discuss? Thanks, -N”_

Thomas had a matching frown now.

“What?” he asked, his head spinning a million miles per hour, “what does that mean? Does he want to keep going out with me? I think he does. I'm not sure. What?”

Teresa didn't answer, with an expression of shh-I'm-thinking.

“I don't know. I'll text him and tell him yeah, I'll meet with him, and then we'll discuss whatever he wants to talk about. Who the hell uses discuss? Why is he getting all formal? I'm so confused.”

“I have a really bad feeling about this,” Teresa muttered, “I sense pain and struggle in the near future.”  
She looked back at Thomas and sighed.

“This is point of time where I'm going to tell you to not do something, you won't listen to me, and then I'm going to have to pick up whatever's left of you, isn't it?” she stated remorsefully. “Just let the world be known I tried to warn you.”

+++

Both Newt and Alby sighed together as Thomas's response came.

“I don't know where you found him Newt,” Alby said, “but he is completely worth it.”

Newt hummed and nodded, agreeing completely with Alby.

 _Is tomorrow at one alright? At the Claren's Cafe downtown?_ He typed in reply to Thomas

His quick reply was a short, _I'll be there._  
Newt couldn't help but feel a little bit more than just guilty.

+++


End file.
